Until the Ink Runs Out
by A. K. Brumley
Summary: Late at night my mind comes alive with voices, and stories, and friends as dear to me as any in the real world. I give myself up to it, longing for transformation... PLEASE READ AND REVIEW!
1. Prologue

Its another darkened evening, the only good time that I can find for writing. The pen scribbles away, my hand too terribly slow to keep up with my thoughts. They say that "nights are highly overrated," but not with me. Night is my life, the only time when the volume of fact and fiction that whizzes through my thoughts during the day can eventually be put to paper. I am a writer -- a fan-fiction writer.

Late at night my mind comes alive with voices, and stories, and friends as dear to me as any in the real world. I give myself up to it, longing for transformation...

Author's Note: This is a story (from a really, really long time ago) that I rediscovered last night as I was going through my files. Its one of my favorites that I ever wrote under the pen name letoile. I'm re-posting it, because I'm finally getting around to finishing its sequel. So... I hope that you enjoy it just as much as I am.

This is adapted from a quote from Louisa May Alcott, who just happens to be my favorite writer. I can't believe that I forgotten to mention that before, because it definitely plays a major role in this story. Thanks so much Istalksiriusonweekends for my first review (yay!) and the reminder.


	2. Chapter 1

Her teeth chattering against her lips, Anne laid in a crumpled heap in a small corner of the boxcar. The young woman's fall to the wet wooden planks was hard and she had yet to regain clarity. After several moments of lying sprawled on the floor she finally sat up and took a look around. The ominous night had cast a shadowy film throughout the great compartment, so that she could hardly see any more than a foot in front of her.

A storm had begun. A miserable tempestuous storm had begun. Thunder snarled and lightening cracked, shaking the already riving railroad car. Steady rain beat down on the boxcar and an old, slightly tattered umbrella brought little resolution to the young stole-away. Having had enough of the cold floor, she scowled and stood from the puddled wooden planks.

A low voice echoed from the vast depths of the compartment, deep, concentrated, unexpected. "How did you get in here?" it asked.

"What? Who are you?" she replied shakily, fixing her arms firmly across her chest.

The distant figure struck a match and surprisingly it lit; the room brightened slightly by way of the small blue flame that danced in the chilling northern breeze. The aloof, hollow-voiced figure blurred deeper in to the shadows, yet mumbled to the darkness, "I asked you first."

Nonchalantly, she shrugged. "I climbed in a while back."

"How long's a while?"

"T-two days... ago."

"That's funny. I've been ridin' this rail for nearly two weeks and I ain't ne'er seen no one scale."

"Well, think what you want. I scaled two days ago near Pritchford, but I don't see why that's any business of yours. As far as you should know, I just popp'd out of thin air." Grinning against the shadiness, Anne retreated to her corner.

The boxcar quickly fell silent and the young woman settled back against a crate to fall asleep. But just as her eyes began to droop, a hand clasped her shoulder. Leaping to her feet, Anne brandished her old umbrella in defense from a mass of wild curly, brown hair.

The man appeared to be not much older than she was, but he stood a good foot and a half taller. From his towering mammoth like appearance, Anne truly was compelled to use her 'weapon' had he taken any steps nearer. Yet he didn't; he simply stuck out his palm and whispered: "I ne'er learn'd your name."

"Its Anne. I-I'm Anne. Anne Montgomery," she awkwardly replied, hesitantly reaching out to shake his extended hand.

"Anne," his hollow voice resounded, turning the word over his tongue.

"Yes, and yours is?"

"Ha, of course," the boy chuckled, "the name's Jade Meyers."

Late into the next day, Anne woke from her stiff sleep. A door on one side of the railroad car was wide open and the countryside of New York steadily swished by. She squinted against the grey brightness of the light filtering through the aperture and the wood walls. "Mr. Meyers," she whispered.

Her blue eyes slovenly picked over the littered boxes. He was nowhere to be seen. She shook her head, cursing silently under her chilly breath.

Anne rode the rails well into the late afternoon before the train docked. She watched through the cracked boards of the car as they slowly pulled up into a fairly large depot labeled boldly Port Jervis. Bustling travelers and railroad workers lined the gravel road near the locomotive and on the other side of the commotion there was a thick picket of juniper pines. She chose the later for escape. Luckily, she descended from the train before the car that she had ridden on was quickly unloaded of its goods.

Trekking deeper into the woods, Anne came to the edge of a clearing in which there stood a settlement of drifters. Ten to twenty canvas tents had been erected and around them lounged their inhabitants: a band of men and women, young and old, huddled around small simmering fires. Some small children played with a set of jacks in the muddy soil and a small babe splashed its chubby little arms happily in a puddle nearby. Every mystic pair of eyes followed Anne as she walked down the interceding path of mud between the makeshift homes, except for that of a scraggily old hag-of-a-woman with kinky brown hair who was preoccupied with tugging at a young man's ear.

"Where were you this time?" she shouted. "Your father and I have been worried sick!"

"Ma, you're hurtin' me!" he yelped, as she dug her long fingernails deep into his earlobe. As the young man turned and gently shoved his mother off, Anne immediately recognized him as her stealing, "train mate" Jade. Temper flaring, Anne heatedly neared the brawl.

A large man with mock hair of the woman's exited a tent to their left. "Jade, where have you been?" he asked.

Jade nervously recoiled. "I-I went ridin' the rails."

"Did you hear that, William? He road the rails -- _by_ _himself_!" she shrieked, "You are his father. Speak to him!"

"Its alright. I've been doin' it for years," Jade explained, hoping to assuage their anger.

William Meyers advanced on his son, though not with the temper that Jade expected. "Have you really?" he began eagerly, "What's it like?"

"**William**!" she yelled, her eyes blazing.

"Oh, um - I mean, that was very wrong, son," he said, not daring to meet his wife's eyes, "You should be terribly ashamed!"

Jade shrugged sheepishly and prepared for the tempest that would inevitably explode from his mother; however, a red herring luckily swept in to rescue him. "Uh, Mr. Meyers," an uneven voice barked.

William quickly turned around to meet Anne Montgomery, a fiery young woman with a predisposition. "Huh, do I know you?" he asked.

"No, sir. I'm meaning to speak with Jade."

"How do you know Jade?" William asked amusedly, his luminous eyes glancing across her prim form.

"We met yesterday on the train," she replied, crossing between the Meyers in order to stand near their son. Her eyes narrowed vehemently and she growled sotto voce to Jade: "I believe you have something of mine -- a purse, perhaps?"

Jade grinned roguishly and patted a bulging inner compartment of his woolen coat. "Get me outa here and you can have it back."

Reluctantly, she nodded in agreement and they simultaneously shoved at the Meyers. "Run!" Jade exclaimed and Anne took off for the trees. Mr. Meyers smiled and gave his son a regal salute, while his wife insisted on shouting vulgarities to their backs.

"All aboard track three!" the conductor shouted over the crowded alley of people outside of the depot and citizens rushed to board the train. Anne Montgomery and Jade Meyers quickly exited the murky forest just as their train began pulling out of the dock. "Hurry," Jade cried, urgently tugging her by the forearm across the path to the train. Then in one swift, eloquent movement the young man leapt up into an opening of one of the speeding compartments, tugging Anne with him. She gasped as her chest powerfully met the hard planks of the floor; scowling darkly, she got up and brushed herself off.

"Apologize," she snarled.

"What?"

"Oh, you heard me."

Jade turned away with an aghast laugh, but suddenly a nearby shadow spoke. "Apologize for what?" it said.

Anne stood with haste, her heart pounding. "Not again," she cried, "Look, you people can't keep just popping out of thin air. Alright, both of you... I want you out of this car now!"

"What's with her?" the voice asked Jade.

"She's new to this," he shrugged, smiling, chuckling. "Look, Anne, if anyone should get out its you. After all, I was here first." Jade shoved the other side door to the car ajar and light flooded in on the setting, omitting any ounce of darkness that had settled on the room.

Both he and Anne gasped at the figure that sat skew-legged against the wall. The young, good-looking man lowered his head at their inexcusable stairs directed toward the injured left eye -- a mass of blood and puss. The skin that had not been torn from the socket was blue and purple.

Gently, Anne moved to trace her hand delicately across his cheek. "What happened?" she whispered.

"It was an accident as I was switchin' trains. I had just managed ta crawl in here before you two scaled," the stranger replied, wincing as her fingers felt too near to the wound. His remaining eye was squinted in pain as he made an effort to straiten up.

Worried, she turned to Jade. "What should we do?"

"That wound looks real bad. He's just lucky that that eye is the only thing he'll be loosin' today."

Because she had long since stubbornly refused to speak with Jade, Anne laid down next to the injured young man. She looked on sympathetically as the handsome, young stranger fought to meet sleep. The man had had a hard lifetime, but an especially hard past two weeks. As a member of one of Charles Loring Brace's "orphan trains" he had had his life in New York City taken away from him. Only, the next morning -- thanks to Jade and Anne's care -- he would be able to return to his old home as changed but happy man.

His name was Kevin Thomas. A so-called native of both Lower Manhattan and Brooklyn, he wasn't much older than she or Jade. He had looks that favored him greatly, including strait blond hair complicating the use of his one good eye, prominent dimples on each cheek, and one of those sweet, heart-melting smiles.

To her disgust, Jade suddenly plopped down at her side, eager to mess with her some more. "Why don't you trust me now? I saved your life for God's sake."

She turned to him, eyebrows raised. "You saved _my_ life? Mr. Meyers, you give yourself way too much credit. After all, I believe that it was I who saved you from those menacing souls that you call parents. Now, go away. You'll wake Mr. Thomas."

Angrily, he pulled her from the floor and roughly sat her down on a crate at the other end of the compartment. "My parents aren't 'menacing.' They're just different... T-they're gypsies."

"Ha, there's no such thing," she laughed.

"No such thing? Are you mad, woman? That camp right back there is one of the few migratory gypsy legions still existing in the states."

"You are such a liar. I don't know why I even try to talk to you. Just leave me alone." Rolling her eyes, she quickly stood to leave, but Jade grabbed her again.

"I know that you still don't trust me, but-"

"OF COURSE I DON'T TRUST YOU! You took my pocket book and still have yet to give it back!"

"Here," he sighed, tossing her her wallet, "You have my word."

"Your word for what?" she asked.

"My word that all a the money is there and that it won't happen again. I'll ne'er steal from you again."

"Well, that's not much, but I guess that it'll have to do."

His lips twisting into a wide grin, Jade nodded. "Okay, then."

Smiling back, she said. "You know, Mr. Meyers. I'd have never guessed that you would behold such a charming smile."

"Thanks," he chuckled. "Perhaps, if I smile more often you might start to like me?"

"Fat chance," she laughed.

A strong arm shook Anne awake the next morning. She smiled wearily up at Kevin, wiping the sleep from the corners of her eyes.

"I just woke up a few minuets ago and noticed that Mu-uh-Jade is gone."

"I shouldn't have trusted him," she said, her temper flaring as her eyes scanned the compartment. To her surprise, she found that her money remained in the occupancy of her blazer pocket. _Until the ink runs out _-- she thought to herself. _Just until the night ends_.

Kevin Thomas made sure to straiten his coat, dust off his knees, and button up his top-button before exiting the train compartment. After all, he was escorting a lady.

Anne definitely looked the part of a proper declasse woman on the arm of her gentleman. The tear of her petticoat, where the piece of material had been taken to bandage Kevin's eye, went unnoticed and her newly formed curls bobbed as she was led down the steps of the boxcar. Unlike most "riders of the rails," Anne and Kevin waltzed out of their car without the care of being seen. No police officer dared to question such a matter of a well-dressed lady even if he had seen her descend with his own eyes.

A thick silver cloud of fog and smoke hung overhead and pressed down the throats of the waiting masses. "Train 6025 from Port Jervis to Pennsylvania Station has arrived!" a voice called through the milky blur.

Kevin directed Anne through the howling crowds of people in the concourse, a large web of steel and glass through which grey light filtered. And once passing through the arcade and collecting a few necessary items from its shops, they continued to the honey-toned entrance hall that beamed with towering columns and travertine marble floors. At the Seventh Avenue carriageways, Kevin flagged down a cab for Anne.

"Well, I guess that this is where we go our separate ways. Thanks so much for everything," he said.

Her face brightened and she giggled lightly. "No, thank you, Kid. There's no way that I could have gotten out of that station without your help."

"Naw, that's not true. You could've gotten out, eventually," Kevin laughed.

"I don't know what I'm going to do now. Please don't leave me here, Kid," she pleaded, "I'll pay for you a place to sleep if you stay with me. You wouldn't have to worry about anything. Please, Kevin, don't leave me."

"That's a mighty fine offer, but I can't. I'm sorry."

Anne nodded, knowing that he had his reasons. She forced a smile and drew him into a hug.

"Anne, you'll be fine. I promise," Kevin whispered into her hair.

She slowly backed away, trying to push back the stinging tears that had built behind her eyes. While Anne climbed into the surrey's compartment, Kevin turned to the cab driver that had been impatiently waiting for them to finish their farewells. The man's scowl quickly vanished upon finally receiving the desired destination and cab fare. Anne sadly waved goodbye to her friend as the long, sleek cab pulled away from the curb and began its fly down Seventh Avenue.

A/N: Muhahaha... this is great. I had forgotten how much fun it was to post and wait for reviews. :smiles: I'm not even going to try to explain why it's been so long since I've updated. I just hope that you haven't lost interest.

By the way, for this go around of posting I've added an extra little element. At the end of some of the chapters I will include links to bonus features of the story, such as...

"Until the Ink Runs Out" - On Location: Port Jervis

"Until the Ink Runs Out" - On Location: Pennsylvannia Station


End file.
